


Is Kai Toshiki a Cat, and Other Mysteries of Life

by Antartique



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Gen, Nothing gets explained, Role-swap/Age-swap AU, This makes no sense anywhere outside my head, Title has no relevance to plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:02:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antartique/pseuds/Antartique
Summary: Ibuki Kouji has an easy, maybe not so easy, life. He will not let this mysterious gift ruin it.(A crazy AU where Chrono is Kouji's somewhat-guardian, Kouji has annoying friends and Kazumashouldbe the main antagonist, if the plot got far enough.)





	Is Kai Toshiki a Cat, and Other Mysteries of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: nothing makes sense, hints of ShinoShion like in everything

“Down! Ibuki wins!”

Kouji lets go of the hold on his opponent as quick as he can, taking two steps back so he can bow to her. She is a year above him, and was the ace of their club, but for the second season in a row he has taken her spot. Usually they struggle for the first place, but she doesn’t seem to care much about losing today.

“Good match, Kouji-san.” She bows back, graceful as she has always been, and her smile is soft and glowing. She quickly undoes her hair and runs to the audience, cheers for her accompanying all the way.

Kouji knows that, were he to look at their audience, he would find Tokura’s friends waiting for her. He also knows that, if he did dare look around, he wouldn’t find anyone waiting for him to pat him in the back or give him a bottle of water.

He never does.

People still greet him as he makes his way to the changing room, but they are distant greetings of acquaintances and club mates. They all will leave and forget about him, and if they cross him in the main building they wouldn’t spare a glance for him. That is the way things are, the way things have been since he came to this school, and he is fine with it.

He is fine with it, but he still feels an ache in his chest.

 

“I’m h-“ His greeting is interrupted by his room neighbour running to hug him by the waist. Without stopping, Kouji spins him around and holds him in his arms, the small child giggling all the way. “Yes, I’m home, Mako.”

“Hi! Kou-chan!” Mako quickly jumps off his arms, running back to the main room with a singing chant: “Kou-chan is back~!” 

The call is answered with cheery voices and within seconds he is surrounded by children. They cling to his legs and arms and bag, some even try to climb on his back, and one of the eldest in the group (about ten) starts tugging him into the house. They talk over each other and talk over Kouji and pull on his clothes for attention, but he only laughs as he goes with them past the doors and into the playroom.

He wonders if he will even get the chance to say hi to the adults, but then the kids sweep the huge board game off the floor and make him sit with them in a circle. Guess not. Will he even get a chance to finish his homework today?

“Alright, alright, what is it-“

“A story-“

“-about princesses!”

“No! Pirates!”

“But in space!”

Kouji sighs, picking up the conflicting suggestions from his children. He doesn’t  _ have _ to include them all, but what kind of storyteller would he be, if he can’t even do that?

“Okay,” he says with the greatest voice he can conjure. “This is a story that takes place in Cray…”

 

Kouji feels eyes on his back midways through the story, but can’t leave. He can’t move, what with the children sitting so close, giving all their attention to the tale he is not making up so much as pulling it from memories he shouldn’t have. The pirate princesses meeting with the cursed clown, and them going in adventures to a land of friendly aliens.

The eyes don’t leave until the end, when the children get distracted by one of the women that care for them bringing in snacks. He ends the story then, leaving it open so he can continue later, and sneaks off into the kitchen to look for somewhere quiet to do his homework… and also, the owner of the eyes.

“That was cute.”

Shindou Chrono waits in the kitchen, of course he does. He has Kouji’s abandoned bag in his hand, and has even cleaned out one half of the table for him. Black coffee waits for him in the mug the kids painted for him last year, along with a plate of cookies he didn’t ask for. 

“Just the usual-“

“So, adorable as usual.”

Kouji wants to hit him, but hitting Chrono is one of those things no one ever does. Instead, he sits by the table and nibbles on a cookie as he looks for his homework, and Chrono laughs happily and pats his head.

“I heard you won your preliminaries. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Tokura-san is strong.” The coffee is strong as well, and he wants to dump half a bag of sugar in it so it won’t hurt too much. He isn’t in the mood for bitter things, today.

“I have seen her, she might be scarier than Tokoha.”

“With all due respect, no one is scarier that Tokoha.”

Chrono laughs, already picking up various ingredients from their places and putting them on the table. It is all sweets, and Kouji wonders if he plans on making cake again.

“So, what do you want? You did win, after all.”

“To finish my homework in peace.”

“Alright, chocolate then.”

He has no complains.

 

He doesn’t get to finish his homework before the kids call him to fix the TV. They want to watch the recording of some magical girl series, and they insist on him being there so he will be ‘showered by the cheer, glitter and love-based powers’, and become less gloomy.

He ends up between Ami and Ren, who spoil the series by whispering to each other and wave their wands around. No one else hears, no one gets hit, and Kouji considers today’s TV time a success.

“And then they made the monster go BOOM!”

“Did they, really, I see, that’s good.” Chrono somehow keeps a dozen conversations at the same time and Kouji wonders how long he can keep that up. His one life skill is keeping all the children happy at all times, or so he says, after all (as if his housemaking skills aren’t anything to brag about). The children crowd around them, tugging at Chrono’s hair and clothes and glasses, and some hit Kouji with the pillows, and it is somehow the most peaceful he has been in days.

 

The box with the cursed, nameless,  _ blank _ cards is still on his desk, his name and address in neat print with no return address. For a few minutes he looks at it, and wants to throw something at it, but the mug of Chrono-made chocolate is far too precious to waste.

(He would do it, if it would wipe the indignant expression from Chrono’s face. But then he would have to deal with disappointing him and the children, and  _ no one does that. _ )

He notes the tournament down on his calendar. Two days before that card game tournament the mysterious letter in the mysterious package from the mysterious sender said he should go to, which until last week he wasn’t planning to go but is now seriously considering because Tokoha and Shion will be there, for some reason.

...Maybe he should check it out. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

(Famous last words.)

 

So maybe he was exaggerating a bit. Just a little. He actually  _ does _ have friends, but they aren’t students at his school except for one and, thus, he will never get to experience the  _ pleasure _ of going home with them. Not that he minds, he doesn’t (he isn’t  _ lonely _ , thank you, Chrono).

There is Mamoru, Tokoha’s younger brother who is as mild as she is terrifying, except when he is not. Mamoru is some kind of minor luck god, who somehow always brings good luck wherever he goes. He is all smiles, no breaks, no loses, and he is always followed by a group of fangirls -and fanboys- wherever he goes. He is the perfect boyfriend, the perfect student, the perfect  _ everything _ until you realize he has a serious dragon fetish and find him almost worshipping the statue outside the FIVA building (not his words). His luck and Kouji’s own clash so they get along pretty well.

Then, there is Shinonome. He doesn’t know if Shinonome counts as his friend or not, but they spend enough time together to be not-just-acquaintances. He is an underclassman in the Computer Club, who got in trouble with the faculty and was assigned ‘voluntary’ work as an assistant tutor in Kouji’s group. He also spends lots of his free time ‘stalking’ Chrono’s best friend/brother/‘sugar daddy’ Shion, which is only made worse by the fact that Shion is  _also _ ridiculously interested in the kid. Kouji is pretty sure that, once Shinonome graduates, Shion will whisk him away into some secret branch in a  _ more secret _ organization, and no one will ever hear of Shinonome Shouma ever again.

And then there is these two.

Kouji doesn’t want to know who let them in, or how they got Chrono’s ice cream from the fridge with all their limbs whole. He also doesn’t want to know why  _ Kai Toshiki _ of all people is curled up around his pillow, face buried in it and screaming into the cloth.

Seriously, how is he doing that. Cat people are supposed to be fictional.

“So, you know that French transfer student?” Miwa Taishi starts from where he is rolling his chair around, fiddling with his camera’s settings. “Toshi got in a fight with him, because Gaillard heard Toshi dearest call him cute, and wanted to hear more.”

“Oh for stars’ sakes, Toshi, what the heck.”

He  _ didn’t want _ to know, but now he definitely has to know.

“It went like this-”

“NOTHING HAPPENED!” Kai suddenly sits up and throws the pillow at Miwa. It gets blocked by a bag, and then they are slinging things at each other because that is what they do. One makes a comment, the other retaliates, and before you know it they are landing blows on each other with whatever is closest to them. Honorable mentions go to their Monopoly board, Miwa’s old camera and one fight with make-believe laser rays with the kids’ toy wands.

Kouji just starts putting his things away. He is used to this enough that he can probably tell exactly when they will be done and  _ finally _ tell the story of Kai’s ridiculous crush.

These two went to the same grade school as him, but they continued on the same area for middle school, while Kouji himself transferred to Fukuhara. He considers them his closest friends, but they are annoying enough he really  _ doesn’t _ want to admit it. It only got worse when Kai and Miwa finally entered the puberty Kouji had skipped, and all they bothered to talk about was boys, girls, the French transfer student and the cute older sister of Kai’s game rival.

Puberty. He shudders inwardly, already worried for his future. While the oldest of the home’s children are still a couple of years away from it, Kouji can already see the disaster they will make of  _ his _ life if he stays nearby when it happens. He already can’t stand Kai and Miwa most of the time, he can’t even think of the possibilities of the future.

“Oh, Kou-chan, why didn’t you tell us you are coming back to Vanguard?”

“I’m what?”

Miwa’s voice cuts through his musings. He turns to look at them just when the blond is throwing the  _ mysterious _ deckbox to Kai (‘here, catch!’), and can only watch in despair as the blank deck falls on his  _ game-obsessed, competitive best friend’s _ hands. The deck is blank, but it is a deck, and knowing his friends they will surely bring the topic of his gaming back.

Kai wastes no time opening the box-

“It isn’t Vanguard. They are blank cards,” he says, because that’s what they are: just a blank gift given to a blank person.

“Well, they don’t look blank to me.” 

Kai shuffles through the deck while Miwa watches, their expressions going from amused to confused as they go through each card. Kouji’s feelings about the game are divided, but even he feels curious about the blank deck that isn’t blank anymore.

And sure, it isn’t. Before, each card had been made of a translucent, iridescent material that could not possibly be called paper. They were smooth, unmalleable, like small sheets of unnaturally thin glass; he called them ‘cards’ because they were the shape and size of them, but the word wasn’t really appropriate for the odd things.

Now, they weren’t so. Gone was iridescence, being made instead of the usual textured cardboard he knew by heart from his years as a fighter, although he could still see through it if he looked hard enough. Each card had the image of weird, white-and-gray life forms, so realistic Kouji felt like he could reach into the card and pull the odd aliens through. As if that wasn’t far enough from the norm, the aliens were looking  _ straight at him _ , and looking back at them for longer than a second made his mind conjure the images of them bowing to him in respect or acknowledgment. 

The more he looks at them, the more familiar they seem.

“Link Joker?” That’s not a clan he has heard of before.

Miwa tugs him closer and Kouji ends up sitting between his friends, deck in his hands. It is made of 50 plus 16 cards, with another 30-something to the side, and he has to wonder about his  _ mysterious _ benefactor’s budget for such an oddly customizable gift.

“Eh, Kou-chan, you can read this?”

“What do you mean, it is Japanese?”

Kai snatches the cards from his hands and looks at them closely. Kouji leans back on Miwa, who is wrapped around him trying to look at the deck too, but then both of them give up and slump on the bed, dragging Kouji with them.

“It is all squiggles, Kouji.”

“It is Japanese, Toshi.”

“Don’t call me by that name ever again-”

“I wonder, is it legit?” Miwa holds one card over his head, turning it around so he can look at the back. It does look official and real, but who could know? Should they ask Tokoha, or someone else?

_ Neon Messiah _ . Kouji looks at the small alien in the card, and the small alien opens its huge eyes and looks back at him. They are blue, and green, and white and red; they are Earth and Cray and then they are space as well; they look at and past him, into old times and unborn ones, and at his life and hopes and despairs-

And he falls.

 

_ My child , _

_ You, who has heed our voice; You, who would listen to our warning, _

_ We watch your path, and hope; We watch the possibilities unfold, yet, _

_ Danger is too close for our hand to reach you now; Your loved ones will bring it to light, _

_ Accept our gift; Speak our words, _

_ Accept- _

 

“Kouji!”

He comes back with a jolt, almost like electricity ran through his body and into his brain and heart in less than a second. His thoughts are hazy, his heart racing, he doesn’t know what  _ happened _ .

Kai has never looked so afraid. Why is Kai looking at him like that?

There is a knock on the door. Chrono’s voice is grounding (he made  _ Chrono _ worry), a familiar and comfortable presence blanketing the whole building. Right, he is home (not in space), he is with his friends (Kai, Miwa, not aliens), he is tired and sleepy but there isn’t anything going on besides his friends being weird.

(He blocks the flickering images coming to his head, blocks the commanding voice warning him of danger.)

“Kouji? Is everything alright?”

Before he can answer, Miwa is skipping to the door and throwing it open. Kouji imagines his expression, blinding eyes that can do no wrong and a bright smile that betrays nothing, along with that open posture that somehow manages to get all the old ladies to give him candies. Kouji has never known if Chrono sees through Miwa or not, but right now he is too tired to care.

“We are ok-ay, Shindou-san! Kou-chan just fell asleep while Toshi was telling a riveting tale of love and adventure- Is that the time? I didn’t know, we will get off your hair soon-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry-”

The conversation fades into the background, Miwa and Chrono’s voices melding together into a lulling melody that Kouji does his best to fight. Kai is still holding his shoulders, eyes shifty, looking for something, and then he leans his forehead on Kouji’s shoulder with a sigh.

Awkward.

“Where did you go?” The question is a whisper, tone somber in opposite to Miwa and Chrono’s happy conversation of the bakery that opened last week. “Where?”

“I- nowhere?” What is he supposed to answer? He didn’t go anywhere, not physically at least, and he doesn’t think Kai would be very understanding if he said his mind was somewhere in space.

Kai stays quiet for what feels like an eternity, and then: “Promise me, you won’t go there again.”

“...I promise.”

 

Kouji goes through his tournament in a daze, some heavy fog numbing his thoughts, though physically he is the same as always. He rises through the ranks to the cheers of his school and the few friends he has, but he can’t feel happy about it.

He ends up somehow winning second place. First place went to a returnee who stood inside a vortex of wind at all times (surely there is only so much coincidence?) and spoke in rapid Cantonese to his companions, while third went to a pretty girl whose school Kouji can’t recognize. It was a good tournament.

Two days later, he finds himself with Miwa and Kai in the United Sanctuary Association branch, the one branch he hasn’t visited following after his friends. It is a huge building, nothing like his home branch Dragon Empire; he knows, because he has read about it, that there is a maze labyrinth underground and that the walls of the fighting floor are all displays of different clans’ cards, but he hasn’t seen it himself.

Kouji’s feelings about Vanguard have been conflicting for a few years, now. While dislikes  _playing _ the game, he can’t say that he doesn’t like the game itself. After his retirement, he has kept up with Vanguard news and studied the new decks, read up on the stories of Cray’s citizens, read up about influential figures in the fighter’s world. He still updates his old deck, maybe not obsessively like Kai, not like Miwa who is in a constant ‘testing builds’ stage, but still adds new cards that fit his playstyle. It is all very casual.

Even if it is all very casual, he knows who is who. He recognizes Asukawa Taiyou, the Sanctuary’s usual spokesperson and Gold Paladin Clan Leader. He recognizes the top players, casual and professional, of this branch, if only because Kai points them out to him every chance he can. He can probably name the ranked teams that are wandering around, and even some international ones.

He has no idea who the person opening the tournament is, though.

Shouji Kazuma doesn’t cause much of a impression on the crowd. He seems constantly tired, giving his speech in a monotone that makes even the overly cheerful Miwa yawn. He isn’t unprofessional, but he has no motivation at all. He is just plain weird, and if Kouji has to be honest,  _ creepy . _

Problem is, Shouji Kazuma is  _ familiar _ . Kouji doesn’t know where he has seen him before, but the black and purple coat, the lazy way he plays with his braid, the way he motions with one hand, the way he looks  _ directly _ at Kouji with a smirk- 

Wait, what?

Kouji blinks, deciding to stand behind Miwa for now. He might have imagined it, but as Shouji Kazuma  _ glides _ off the stage, his spot quickly taken by a smiling Asukawa, the man looks at the crowd again, once again to the spot where Kouji, Kai and Miwa stand.

He doesn’t like coincidences.

 

It comes to him when he is back home, looking at Chrono through the window. It is deep in the night, and their caretaker is walking from the door to the fence, to the door and back, like he does every night. 

And it is the way he walks, the way his eyes never stray far from the moon, the lazy way he plays with the hinges of his glasses, the way he motions with a single hand. It is how Chrono never talks about himself, how he devotes himself completely to the children and drifts away from himself, how he keeps everything that can be proof of identity away from sight.

It is how he trusted Chrono the moment he met him, and how he distrusted Shouji Kazuma the moment he saw him.

 

_ Danger is too close for our hand to reach you now, _

**Author's Note:**

> I did say nothing makes sense. This was part of my an-AU-a-week self challenge thing, basically age-swap/role-swap, and then it got out of my hands and ended up being Diffrider/StarVader-plots-in-G-timeline kind-of-thing. What, that doesn't make sense? Of course it doesn't.


End file.
